


Old Man

by apple_pi



Series: Who Are You Calling Old? [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-24
Updated: 2005-02-24
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7611823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy wanders over to sit on the couch beside Dom. “Dom, I found three grey hairs.”<br/>Dom grins and twists the controller, body leaning over and back in unconscious mimicry of his character’s movements on the screen. “No kidding.”<br/>Billy looks sad. “I’m old, Dom. O-o-o-o-o-o-o-old.” He slumps, elbows on his bare knees, examining his hands. He pinches the skin on the back of his knuckles, watching it turn white and sink back to its proper place. “Look. My skin’s old, too. Lost its, its—you know. Snap.”<br/>“Elasticity?” Dom curses again and tosses the controller onto the floor as a Nazgûl snatches the little pixelated Frodo up. “Balls.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tarteaucitron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarteaucitron/gifts).



“Look.”

Dom doesn’t move off the sofa, and why should he? He’s got Playstation and beer and crisps and a nice, comfy, Dom-shaped depression in the leather where his boxer-clad arse has been planted for the past three hours. And counting. Billy, on the other hand, is standing up, peering into a little wall mirror and picking through his own hair like a lonely monkey needing someone to groom him.

“Dom, c’mere. Come and look at this.”

“No. Fuck fuck fuck!” He sighs and gropes blindly for his lager, half-knocking it over, dribbling some onto the side table before he rescues it and takes a long drink. “Killed Frodo off again.”

“Doing Middle-earth a favour, then,” Billy says sourly, twisting his head around to examine—apparently—the crown. “How long are you going to play that stupid game?”

“Until I win,” Dom says, staring intently at the screen. “Ha! Gotcha. Little fucker.” He mutters this last, and Billy isn’t sure who he’s talking to, the orc who just died an inhumane death, or him.

He wanders over to sit on the couch beside Dom. “Dom, I found three grey hairs.”

Dom grins and twists the controller, body leaning over and back in unconscious mimicry of his character’s movements on the screen. “No kidding.”

Billy looks sad. “I’m old, Dom. O-o-o-o-o-o-o-old.” He slumps, elbows on his bare knees, examining his hands. He pinches the skin on the back of his knuckles, watching it turn white and sink back to its proper place. “Look. My skin’s old, too. Lost its, its—you know. Snap.”

“Elasticity?” Dom curses again and tosses the controller onto the floor as a Nazgûl snatches the little pixelated Frodo up. “Balls.”

“Yeah, elasticity. My skin is old, Dominic. I’m old.”

Dom leans against the back of the sofa. _Str-r-r-retches_ his arms over his head and tilts his head abruptly to one side to the accompaniment of several musical popping sounds. Billy winces and sulks. “Yep.”

“ _Yep_?” Billy, affronted, turns his head to glare at his mate. “You agree? I’m old?”

Dom reaches for him—yanks him sideways so that Billy’s head is abruptly on Dom’s thigh. He sighs and goes lax, staring past Dom’s bare, hairy knee as the other man’s fingers comb through the hair at the back of his head. “Where’d you find those grey hairs?”

Billy points lackadaisically to his receding hairline. “Right here. Though I shouldn’t worry, I s’pose. Pretty soon it’ll all be gone, and then I won’t have to worry about being grey, now will I?”

Dom tugs sharply at a spot near Billy’s neck. “Got a whole colony here, Bills.”

Billy scrunches his face up, sighs pathetically. “I’m old.”

“Yep.” Dom hunches over him, leans down to breathe into his ear. “So obviously this—” he runs his tongue along the curve of Billy’s small, delicate ear— “would have no effect on you whatsoever.”

Billy closes his eyes and sighs. “None whatsoever.”

“So I’m just wasting my time,” Dom murmurs, running his hand over Billy’s back, down to the waistband of his plaid boxers. Hesitation, then Dom moves his hand back up, pushing under the thin cotton of Billy’s vest and rubbing small circles on the pale skin of his side. His other hand is running through Billy’s hair, over and over again.

“Prolly.” Billy’s hand creeps up to lie on Dom’s knee.

“And it would be futile to, say… tell you exactly how much I enjoyed it this morning.”

“Enjoyed what?” Billy’s voice is sullen, but his ear, under Dom’s continued ministrations of whispering and licking, is pink.

“Enjoyed having you fuck me through the mattress.”

“Oh.” Now Billy’s cheek is pink as well. “That.” He sighs, a fluttery breath that stirs the light hairs on Dom’s thigh. “Might not be futile.” He squeezes Dom’s knee lightly.

“So it might be helpful.” Dom’s hand slides down, over the ticklish spot and then forward, onto his stomach, so Billy twitches and his eyebrows knit over his resolutely closed eyes.

“Tickles.”

Dom’s fingers press down, dipping beneath the elastic of Billy’s shorts. “Sorry.” His tongue slides down Billy’s neck, traces the line of his jaw. One hand twists suddenly in Billy’s hair, just as the other dives abruptly downward.

“Owfuck!” Billy yelps, clenching his face and then unclenching it amazingly fast as Dom’s fingers find and grasp his half-hard cock. “Nnngh…”

“Wanna hear more, old man?”

“Mm-m-maybe.” Billy’s tongue darts out, slides over his lower lip and then disappears again.

“Liked that, this morning.”

Billy wriggles slightly, moves his body; his hand slips higher on Dom’s thigh, now that he’s made room for it. “Why’re you telling me this?” His fingertips slide under the hem of Dom’s shorts.

“Just trying to make you feel a bit younger.” Dom purrs it, fingers working relentlessly in Billy’s boxers. “Make you feel better about your state of… oldness.”

Billy makes a face, opens one eye and rolls his head to peer up at Dom. “Oldness?”

“Gimme a break here.” Dom grins. Billy’s hard now. “M’doing my best.”

“Hmm.” Billy closes his eye again; pulls one leg up and open to allow for better access to his bits. “S’good, your best.”

“I know.” Dom squeezes Billy’s cock. “Liked that, this morning,” he repeats. “You were quite energetic. Liked feeling you on top of me, shoving me into the pillow while you fucked me…” Billy can feel Dom’s erection against the back of his head. “Wouldn’t mind feeling that again. Say… now.”

Billy sighs. “But I’m an old man, Dom. Grey hair. No elasticity in my skin.”

Dom licks the side of his face. “Feels pretty taut from where I’m sitting.” He lurches suddenly, moving so fast that Billy’s eyes fly open and his body flails about; before he can figure out what’s happening, he’s flat on his back on the sofa, Dom hovering over him on hands and knees, grinning wickedly down at him. “Hi.”

“’Lo.” Billy manages, with an effort, to keep his face looking interested and blank, slightly sad.

Dom ignores this, settles back on his heels and tugs at Billy’s shorts. “Lift your hips, yeah?” Off come the boxers, and then Dom mauls him about until his t-shirt is gone, too; Billy flops back onto the couch.

He folds his hands primly on his chest even as his hard-on slaps onto his belly. Dom leans down and licks it, a quick swipe of his dangerously long tongue—rewarded by Billy’s quick inhale—before clambering off Billy to rid himself of his own shorts and t-shirt. He’s straddling Billy’s thighs a moment later. “So.” He lies down on top of Billy, and Billy’s lashes flutter involuntarily as Dom drags his heavy cock alongside his. “Didn’t we leave some lube in here the other day?”

“Under the settee, I think.” His voice is slightly higher than usual, and he clears his throat self-consciously. “What are you on about?”

“Well, since you’re so old, I thought this time _I’d_ do all the work,” Dom says. He presses his face into Billy’s neck and gropes along the floor, sweeping under the couch with his fingertips until they encounter the tube.

Billy’s eyes are shut again and he’s pressing rhythmically up into Dom’s hips; his hands are trapped under Dom’s chest. He can feel the air being crushed from his chest, but it’s surprisingly agreeable. “M’kay.”

Unseen by Billy, Dom rolls his eyes. “Got it,” is all he says, though, and he pops up triumphantly. “Now then…” He sits up again, scoots back until he’s seated on the couch between Billy’s legs. He leans over and licks the head of Billy’s cock, then slides his mouth wetly down over it. Billy inhales again and pushes suddenly up. Dom drops his forearms onto Billy’s hips, holding him still as he licks, sucks, and swirls his tongue. Finally he pops off; Billy’s sweating and breathing a bit faster. “Now, now,” Dom says chidingly, “you need your rest, old man. I’m the one doing the moving, remember?”

Billy pushes his head back and down into the cushion briefly, then relaxes again. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Dom flips open the lid of the lube. “Mmm, raspberry.” He pours a generous dollop into his palm, then slides his hand up and down Billy’s cock. Billy sighs and squirms, but every time he moves, Dom stops his ministrations. Billy exhales irritably, but keeps himself still as Dom finishes up. “Don’t move,” Dom says, sitting up again, onto his heels. He reaches back, watched intently by Billy, whose green eyes have gone dark. Dom slides one finger into himself, and Billy’s swallow is clearly audible. “Y’like that?” Dom asks, his eyes sinking closed, a slight smile on his face as he slicks himself.

“Um. Yeah.” Billy’s hands are still clasped on his chest, but they’re twisting a bit, getting somewhat white-knuckled.

Dom opens his eyes again, tosses the lube onto the floor. “Don’t move,” he reminds Billy, and then he positions himself. One hand wraps firmly around the base of Billy’s cock, holding it still; the other presses Billy’s hip, balancing as he lowers himself.

“Oh, fuck,” Billy breathes.

“Mm-hmm.” Dom’s eyes are lowered, brows furrowed slightly with concentration. Billy rocks his head back and forth restlessly, then stops abruptly, focusing on the way the muscles in Dom’s thighs flex and harden as he sinks all the way onto Billy’s cock, then pushes himself upward again. “Unnnnnhhhh,” he says, and Billy’s eyes flick to his face, fasten there hungrily. He’s pulled his hand off Billy’s cock, and this time when he slides down, it’s all the way, and Billy struggles not to move, not to slam his hips up as hard and as fast as he can, because fuck, it just feels so good. He feels the restlessness churning around his body, seeking release. “Feel good?” Dom asks.

Billy’s hands fly to Dom’s waist. “Yeah,” he says, and this time lifts his hips to meet Dom’s downward push.

Dom’s face goes red, but he shifts, digging his fingers into Billy’s hips. “Be still, dammit,” he grates out.

Billy’s breathing grows ragged. “Don’t wanna.”

“What do you wanna do?” Dom asks, never ceasing his steady up-and-down rocking; his thighs shake slightly, and a bead of sweat slides down his temple. His hair is darkening at the roots with it, and Billy feels how slick the skin between them is when Dom comes all the way down. The slow pace is driving Billy insane.

“Wanna…” The need to move rockets around him, and his fingers tighten unintentionally on Dom’s skin. “Wanna fuck you,” he says harshly.

“Nope.” Dom’s grin is crooked, pasted on beneath smoke-coloured eyes and messy hair. “Can’t.”

“ _Can’t_?” Billy’s eyes flash at him, and the corner of his mouth curls upward in challenge and disbelief.

“Won’t let you.” Dom leans over, changing the angle of Billy’s penetration, and they both groan slightly, but Dom’s voice, when he murmurs into Billy’s ear, is unbearably smooth, smirking, in control. “Old man.”

Billy bucks underneath him, pushes him up and off. Dom gasps as Billy sits up and shoves him roughly back, small hands hard and grasping, gripping Dom’s calves and thighs and forcing him further down, further back. Dom half-struggles against him, but it’s a lost cause and they both know it—in a matter of seconds Dom’s on his back, knees pressed to his chest and fingers scrabbling at Billy’s skin as Billy slams back into him in one rough push, bent over him, eyes glittering, teeth bared in a smile that makes Dom’s toes curl happily. “Won’t _let_ me?” he pants, and he pulls slowly out, only to slam inward hard and fast.

“Nnn—” Dom closes his eyes, relaxes into it with an effort. “ _Fuck!_ ” he grunts about five seconds later, as Billy slams him again.

“Good?” Billy’s voice is low and sweet. He reaches between them and grasps Dom’s erection gently, even as he begins to fuck him hard and fast. Dom just nods, mouth open, eyes closed, face like a cherry. “Tell me, Dominic.”

Dom arches up, hips pushing into Billy’s fist even as he quakes with each hard thrust. “Good—” he manages. “God—oh.” Billy’s cock drives into him harder with every thrust; his face is intent, desperate, hard, soft. Dom opens his eyes, and the moment they meet Billy’s, Dom’s mouth opens, too: “Good, yes, fuckme _please_ , oh god, Bill, Billy, yeah, fuck, fuck, fuck—” His thighs are taut and hard, and Billy’s hand on his cock slaps up and down wetly; Billy struggles to keep his eyes open, to keep his gaze locked to Dom’s, listening to the stream of half-formed pleas and protests that tumble from his lips. They never cease, profanity and praise sliding loose, looping words that Dom groans, moans, shouts, even as Billy continues the punishing rhythm he’s set, pounding hard into Dom, pinned beneath him.

But Billy can feel the heat pooling in his belly; feel his balls tighten and his expression going strained, heavy; feel Dom’s body hotwettight around his cock as he pounds into him over and over. “Dom—” he interrupts desperately— “Dom, fuck, fuck, come for me—”

Dom does, voice spiraling downward into a low, harsh groan as his body curls and then arches; his cock throbs in Billy’s grasp and he comes all over his own belly and Billy’s hand, bucking into his fist and panting, grunting, coming. “Bill, do it, do it,” he wheezes, and Billy cries out and comes hard, head down like a charging bull, eyes squeezed shut as he fucks Dom hard and down and deep— “fill me, fill me, yeah, yeah, god, Bill—” Dom chants raggedly, and when Billy shudders to a gasping stop atop him, Dom almost laughs, thrilled and exhausted and giddy.

Billy sprawls on him for a while. “Ngh,” he says after some time, and he pulls up and out; Dom’s legs slide down and Billy lies down again, cradled between his thighs, sweaty chest pressed to Dom’s come-slick belly.

“Good?” Dom runs his hands through Billy’s hair, and Billy closes his eyes sleepily, cheek against Dom’s chest.

“Yeah.” He heaves a sigh. “What was all that for?”

“Just wanted to prove you’re not an old man,” Dom replies, smiling to himself. “Though you are quite dirty.”

“Why dirty?” Billy runs his hand down Dom’s thigh, letting it come to rest on Dom’s soft, damp cock.

“First you practically fuck me through the sofa, then you lie there... wallowing… in our sweat and, and… everything…” Dom’s soft mouth purses in a moue of distaste that Billy can hear, though he can’t see it, “and then you want to know why _dirty_?”

“Not dirty. Just comfortable.” Billy sighs, hiding his grin. “And now I need a nap.”

Dom rolls his eyes. “God, I take it back.” He shifts. “You know you’ve had grey hairs forever, right?”

Billy lifts his head to glare. “What?”

“God, yeah. Forever.” Dom squeezes Billy’s shoulder. “Never slowed you down so far.”

Billy drops his head, accidentally-on-purpose letting his sharp chin dig into Dom’s sternum before turning his head to lay his cheek on his chest sadly. “I’m old.” His eyes flutter closed languorously.

“Oh, shut up. And let me up, I need a shower. And you do, too.”

Billy presses himself against Dom, nestling deeper into his embrace and keeping his eyes closed. “No. Nap now, shower later.”

Dom looks longingly at the Playstation controller, abandoned on the floor; at the “Game Over” screen looping endlessly, silently, on the telly. He sighs and feels his eyelids growing heavy. “Old man,” he mutters.

Billy’s hand—the one not on Dom’s cock—pinches. Dom squeaks. They sleep.


End file.
